


We are Six

by Moonyeyedwalrus



Category: B.A.P
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, M/M, Multi, OT6-Relationship, poly bap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-03-09 16:50:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13485714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonyeyedwalrus/pseuds/Moonyeyedwalrus
Summary: Mostly-fluffy poly BAP drabbles





	1. A Bangdae thing

"What are you doing?"

Yongguk jumped as Himchan's breath ghosted against his ear; he hadn't heard him come in. He swiped the back of his head off, glowering, but Himchan just gazed back unrepentantly. Yongguk gave in and nodded to the lone figure sitting in the hall. 

Daehyun looked smaller than usual, as if he'd somehow pulled a few excess limbs into his body so he would take up less space in the world. He had his phone out but his thumb hadn't moved to swipe the screen in almost five minutes and it must have been dark now. 

Himchan followed Yongguk's gaze and his face softened. 

"I swear, I've never seen anyone beat himself up so bad over a sore throat," he said quietly. 

Yongguk just nodded, although he _totally_ got it. They had a comeback in the works. When the company got whiff of Daehyun's sore throat, they panicked and pulled him from half of his _Napoleon_ performances so his voice could be rested for recording. That meant letting down his co-performers, all the Babyz who had bought tickets to those shows specially to see him. Yongguk knew the singer would rather perform through the pain. He never would have complained. 

Technically, this might be better, but as Yongguk looked at his dongsaeng, he couldn't bring himself to believe it.

"Maybe you should talk to him," he told Himchan. "Cheer him up?"

"I already tried," Himchan said. "I went to his place and followed him around for _three hours_ last night reading him all this sweet stuff Babyz posted about him on twitter. _Three hours_ , Bbang, while he was eating, while he was showering--"

"It's hard to believe he didn't enjoy that."

"Right? And when that didn't work, Jonguppie tried. And _he still didn't cheer up_." Himchan shook his head in disbelief, the very foundations of his world cracking under this impossibility. "I think it's time for the nuclear option."

"The nuclear option being...?" Yongguk asked, against his better judgement. His friend gave him a pointed look. 

"Wait, what? Why do I have to be _nuclear_?" Yongguk protested. 

"The name isn't the point," Himchan said patiently. "Call it whatever you want. But go comfort our damn boyfriend." 

Well. When you put it like that...

Himchan gave him a small shove and Yongguk went, joining Daehyun on the bench. The singer glanced over and smiled faintly. 

"Hey, hyung."

Yongguk nodded. Daehyun turned back to his phone, which was, indeed, blank. Yongguk considered reaching for his hand, but the staff was still bustling around getting ready for the V live. He settled for resting his thigh against Daehyun's, hoping the pressure would convey everything he was thinking: _I know how you feel_ and _You haven't done anything wrong_ and _The fans will understand_ and _I'm so proud of you you have no idea._

But maybe that was asking for a lot from a thigh.

"Five minutes," Geunsoo told them as he passed by. There came a clatter of activity from down the hall and Yongguk saw Jongup, Youngjae and Zelo trailing in to join Himchan. 

Yongguk couldn't quite believe it had been 2000 days. It felt both too long and far too short to contain everything they'd been through. He never could have imagined in those early days that the five boys who were gradually introduced to his new group would become the five essential pieces of his heart, but here they were. 

He waited until the space around them had cleared, then rested his pinky finger on Daehyun's. 

"You ready to go in?" he asked quietly. He could see the singer rouse himself, try to give him a smile. The fact that it so clearly took _effort_ made an unhappy restlessness sweep through Yongguk. He didn't want to spend the next two hours broadcasting to fans. Much as he loved them, all he wanted right now was to get Daehyun somewhere quiet and hold him. Yongguk didn't kid himself that he knew what to say that could help--words were Himchan and Youngjae and Daehyun's area--but in private he could do _something_. He'd try anything to get Daehyun's easy smile back.

But duty called.

"Of course," Daehyun said automatically, standing. Yongguk followed suit. Down the hall, Himchan raised a questioning eyebrow. Yongguk made a face.

The face seemed to work, because in the room, Himchan and Youngjae took the seats closest to the camera, pulling the maknaes to sit beside them, leaving the most distant seats for Yongguk and Daehyun. This could have been a coincidence, except Youngjae and Himchan were a pair of plotters and Yongguk knew they'd planned it this way. He sent some mental gratitude their way.

The V live proceeded smoothly enough. Himchan, Youngjae and even Jongup kept up a steady stream of conversation, Junhong and Yongguk chiming in when they had something to add.

Daehyun was noticeably quiet.

It helped somewhat that they had something to do with their hands; the candle-making was more fiddly than Yongguk had expected. But of course the fans noticed Daehyun's uncharacteristic reticence, and were worried by it.

"Daehyun isn't in a bad mood, everyone," Himchan assured them, reading through the comments, and Daehyun broke his silence to agree. Not upset, he asserted. Just focused.

Silently, solemnly focused.

The broadcast was as boisterous as ever, Himchan and Youngjae in fine bickering form while the maknaes laughed at them. Yongguk smiled along, but the balance was off, an essential voice missing from the proceedings.

_Hurry up_ , he urged the clock. Daehyun hated to be _off_ in front of the fans. It was bad luck he didn't have a choice today, that a camera should be trained so steadily on him when he so clearly didn't want it.

Yongguk could relate.

_Hurry up_ , and he'd get him home, follow him to his apartment or drag him to his own. Make him some ramyeon or maybe just order way too much food. Play him some music--he'd liked going through Yongguk's jazz albums during the lawsuit, something in the songs appealing to him when he felt so unsettled. That was when they'd settled into each other, a pleasant shift that made them each feel grounded when their whole lives were otherwise upended. The others would keep away for the evening if Yongguk asked; he'd caught Junhong's worried glances Daehyun's way, Jongup's quiet attempts to draw him into the conversation. There wasn't a member of the group who didn't feel that things were off.

Time refused to hurry. Daehyun refused to talk. His candle was beautiful. Yongguk's eyes kept catching on his hands as he worked, arranging the flowers gently, carefully. 

_Gentle and careful_ weren't words Yongguk imagined most people associated with Jung Daehyun, not when there were descriptors like _loud_ and _handsome_ and _talented as fuck_ out there. But Yongguk knew they fit just as well, had seen how Daehyun took care of the things--and people--he loved. He'd certainly been there for Yongguk on more than a few dark nights.

Things _had_ to be wrapping up. Daehyun filled in his candle and set straight to work on another, affixing the wick to a new cup and looking around for flowers to decorate with. 

In his worry, Yongguk had gathered up the remaining scraps to form a makeshift bouquet. He passed them to Daehyun now, warming as a genuine smile lit his face for the first time in too long. 

Not enough, but something.

They wrapped, thank god, finished their final thank you's from the couch in the waiting room, and then they were stretching, filing out of the room. Yongguk slipped to Daehyun's side. 

"Come over?"

The singer looked at him with some surprise, but didn't hesitate. "Sure."

Daehyun had driven himself--a sure sign he hadn't wanted to talk that morning, or he'd have gone in the van with Junhong and Yongguk. But he seemed content enough to have Yongguk in there, riding in silence with the windows open.

His apartment was quiet. When Himchan visited, he'd set up shop in the kitchen, pulling out pots and pans in a clatter and scolding Yongguk for all the perfectly good groceries in his fridge that would go to waste unless Yongguk threw them into a pot of ramyeon. 

(Whatever, Himchan; Yongguk had learned by now that everything was better in ramyeon. Vegetables, meat, chips. Jongup got him to put pepero in once, and it...wasn't terrible.)

When it was Junhong, he'd go straight for the sound system, sharing his newest discoveries or perusing Yongguk's collection. Music always filled the apartment the whole time he was there.

Daehyun usually filled it with his own voice, but of course he was quiet tonight, curling up on the end of the couch. Yongguk comforted himself that at least the singer felt at home enough to do so. He sat next to him, pulling his feet into his lap. Daehyun gave a small start and then relaxed, letting Yongguk's thumbs massage him. 

"Sorry for being so out of it today. I'll apologize to the fans tomorrow," he said finally. Yongguk pulled at his big toe until the singer looked at him.

"You don't have to apologize for anything," he said firmly. " _I'm_ sorry I couldn't help ."

Daehyun looked surprised. He scooted closer to Yongguk so his thighs covered the rapper's. 

"What are you talking about?" he asked. "You were perfect."

He hadn't taken his jacket off and now he reached into his pocket, pulling out the remains of the little bouquet Yongguk had given him. 

"It was romantic," he said solemnly. Yongguk stammered a bit until Daehyun's face cracked into a smile.

A real smile, an easy smile. 

"Softy," he teased, and kissed him. 

Jung Daehyun kisses had a way of making the world disappear for Yongguk in the best way, but at the moment there was something he wanted even more. He drew back, smiling, just to _see_. Daehyun raised his eyebrows in response, but his own smile was still there. Still real. 

"Good," Yongguk said softly. Daehyun gave him a quizzical smile, which still totally counted. 

"Hey, should we eat?" he asked.


	2. Five Rides--ot6, BangJae

Himchan goes first. He's the worst backseat driver Yongguk could have asked for because he's Himchan, all dramatic _ohmigod_ 's and exaggerated bellows every time they take a curve at what Yongguk considers a reasonable speed (which could arguably be called "20km under the speed limit"). 

He's also the best backseat driver Yongguk could have asked for because he's Himchan and his arms are secure around Yongguk's waist and at some point his exclamations are so over-the-top and absurd that Yongguk forgets to be nervous and starts laughing uncontrollably instead.

When they pull up in front of Yongguk's apartment after a simple twenty minute loop, they're both as winded as if they've been running.

"That. Was. _Fantastic_ ," Himchan declares loudly. He finds Yongguk's hand and presses it to his chest. "Bbang, feel my _heart_."

Still laughing, Yongguk does. It's hammering in Himchan's chest, and after a few beats Yongguk takes his hand and slips it under his jacket so Himchan can feel how they match.

*

Jongup makes his heart pound just as hard when it's his turn. He lifts both arms like he's on a rollercoaster every time they go downhill and Yongguk's terrified he's going to slip off the bike sideways, but the dancer's thighs stay tight around him and he never budges. 

When they get home Yongguk's aged a decade but Jongup's smile is the sunniest it's ever been and it almost makes up for the heart attack. Almost.

*

Daehyun is quiet, resting his chin on Yongguk's shoulder, their plastic helmets clacking together every so often. He doesn't mind when Yongguk goes slow, and simply waves and nods charmingly at the cars behind them when they stall out. Twice. 

His breath is a whisper on the side of Yongguk’s neck the whole way, so persistent he’s almost surprised when he gets home to find it didn’t leave a mark.

*

He puts off taking Junhong as long as he can, despite the maknae's pleading. Usually he can't deny him anything, but this one makes him nervous. Finally, though, he gives in under the onslaught of those giant Junhong _eyes_ and his whole unfair _dimple situation_ and Yongguk really should have thought of this before he bought the motorcycle.

It goes fine, maybe because Junhong's so busy filming their entire ride that he doesn't notice how slowly Yongguk's driving. It takes them nearly forty minutes and Himchan's scowling worriedly by the time they get back.

( _Ha_ , Yongguk _told_ him it was extra nerve-wracking with Junhong; this serves Himchan right for teasing.)

"Did you get out and walk?" he asks peevishly, looking them both over with ill-concealed concern. But Junhong just beams and hands him his phone to show off the video. 

They squish onto Yongguk's bed to watch the whole thing, and Yongguk has a much-needed drink.

*

Whenever Yongguk offers Youngjae a ride, he's mysteriously busy.

*

It takes Yongguk a while to really notice; after all, they _are_ busy, no need to fake it. But the third time it happens, something clicks.

Normally Yongguk wouldn't push on something like this, but he feels so much more comfortable riding now, and taking out the others has become one of has favorite things. They've all told him a hundred times that they don't mind if he just wants to hang out in his apartment or theirs, that they don't have to go out at all if he doesn't want. He believes them. But still, it's nice to take them out sometimes when he needs a one-on-one with any of them.

Tonight, he wants it to be Youngjae.

He finds him outside the practice room and Youngjae brightens at the sight of him.

“I haven’t seen you all day!”

“Let’s get out of here,” Yongguk says simply. Youngjae doesn’t argue, following him out. But in the parking lot he wavers.

“I can meet you somewhere–” he begins, looking at Yongguk’s bike. The rapper tries not to smile.

“You’re the only one who hasn’t been for a ride yet,” he says. “Youngjae. You’re not scared, are you?” It’s not a taunt coming from him; fear is something Bang Yongguk knows intimately. But Youngjae’s eyes grow wide, his expression injured.

“ _No_!” He gasps, outrageously shocked and offended. They stare at each other for a beat before they both burst out laughing. “Okay, that was too much,” Youngjae admits between giggles. Yongguk can feel Youngjae’s laugh in his _toes_ , which curl happily in his shoes. 

“I can’t believe Himchan hyung went on that thing,” Youngjae says. “I can’t believe he wouldn’t just scream the whole time.”

“He did,” Yongguk assures him. “Wait, did he tell you he didn’t scream?”

Youngjae laughs again, which always feels like an accomplishment even though Youngjae laughs easily. 

Yongguk tugs Youngjae closer, grateful for the van parked next to his bike that’s shielding them from view.

“You don’t have to,” he says, more seriously. “But I’d like to take you somewhere.” He can see Youngjae wavering, biting his lip in that way he _knows_ is so attractive. He nudges him. “I’m the slowest driver in Seoul, I swear.”

“Junhongie may have mentioned something about that.”

“It’s just a short trip. Trust me?”

This makes Youngjae look at him. 

“I do,” he says.

They go slow. Youngjae’s arms are tight around Yongguk’s middle, almost-not-quite cutting off his air supply. Yongguk squeezes his hand when they’re at a red light, then they’re going and it’s fine, this is fine. Youngjae’s arms begin to loosen a bit.

They head for a hill steep enough that it usually still makes Yongguk nervous, but today Youngjae’s anxiety makes him forget his own, and he gets them to the top without stalling out once. 

Good thing, because this was the whole point. 

He pulls in at the overlook and parks. Youngjae slides off the back of the bike, takes off the helmet, his expression slightly awed.

“Whoa.”

Yongguk knows. He found the spot by accident when he was practicing riding in those early weeks. It looks out over the city and on a clear night like this you can see Seoul lit up for miles.

They have the place to themselves, and walk to the stone wall overlooking a steep drop, resting their elbows on it. After a minute, Yongguk lets his fingers wander to find Youngjae’s, linking them together, moving slowly against each other, Youngjae’s thumb running against his palm, the tips of Yongguk’s fingers circling Youngjae’s knuckles.

“Okay?” he murmurs. Youngjae just nods, and they stay that way for a time, just looking. 

In the end it’s Yongguk who breaks the silence. This is something that only seems to happen with Youngjae, though all the others have taught themselves how to be quiet when Yongguk needs the peace. He appreciates it; knows it’s especially difficult for Daehyun and Himchan, less so for the dancers. But there’s always a sense of invitation to Youngjae’s quiet, something that makes Yongguk want to talk.

“It’s a good place to clear my head,” he says. He sees Youngjae glance at him sideways. 

“You come up here a lot?”

“Mm.” A half shrug, a see-saw motion with their clasped hands. “Can’t always make it.”

Can’t always get himself out of the apartment, even when he knows the fresh air will do him good. Can’t always duck out of the studio, even when the pressure feels crushing. 

He makes himself look at Youngjae and sees that he understands this. Next to Himchan, Youngjae is usually the first to realize when Yongguk needs a change of scenery, and give him a push out the door. (The push is generally gentler coming from him.)

Youngjae squeezes his hand and then looks back at the view. 

“Yeah, I hear you have trouble with the big hills sometimes,” he says lightly, and Yongguk laughs, shifting over so he’s behind him, wrapping both arms around him and setting his chin on his shoulder for a beat.

“It’s cold,” he says finally. Youngjae’s hair tickles his nose as he nods. 

“Dinner?" 

*

The ride back down is easy, and Yongguk’s chest is warm where Youngjae holds him. It’s nice, he thinks, facing their fears together. They should do this more often.

"You were right, that was fun,” Youngjae says back at the apartment. “Next time maybe you can teach _me_ to drive!”

He walks to the kitchen to get drinks, oblivious to the way Yongguk’s heart seizes at his words. 

Never mind; forget everything he just thought. He’s never taking any of them out again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted to tumblr 1/23/18.


	3. Check In, BangHim, HimJaeUp

Yongguk hadn't been back to the dorm in months. His memory had failed to prepare him for the true mess of the place. The shoe pile alone was alarming, and Yongguk had to avert his eyes as he contributed to it.

It had been a long day of performances and he'd been headed home, but found himself detouring to his old neighborhood instead, unsettled and needing to check in. He was surprised as he stepped inside to find only Jongup and Youngjae on the couch in the common room. 

"What's up?" he greeted them. "Where's Himchan?"

Youngjae and Jongup exchanged a grim look and Youngjae popped a thumb in the direction of the bedrooms. Yongguk frowned and headed for his old room. He'd expected to find the three roommates all together, as an injured Himchan usually liked company when he could get it.

The rapper pushed the door open and found Himchan propped up on a massive and complex configuration of pillows on the bed. 

"They kicked me out," he told Yongguk by way of greeting. There was a scramble from the common room and then the younger two were there, flanking Yongguk in the doorway. 

"Only because he kept _laughing_ and _hurting himself_ ," Youngjae said loudly. Yongguk joined Himchan in the room, perching on the clean end of the bed. 

"What were you doing?" he asked. They were all dressed in their own versions of cozy, long loose shorts for Jongup, pajama pants and a t-shirt for Youngjae, shorts and a hoodie for Himchan. He'd drawn the hood up and his hair flashed a bright pink-red underneath. 

"Just watching a movie," Jongup said.

"So...maybe don't watch a comedy?" Yongguk suggested. He'd seen how laughing made Himchan's eyes tighten in pain these past few days. The younger men had been right to stop him, but Yongguk thought there was an obvious solution that didn't require that Himchan be alone and sequestered in his room while he was hurt.

"It wasn't a comedy, it was a horror movie. A serious one," Youngjae said. Yongguk looked to Himchan for an explanation. Himchan stuck out his lower lip in an exaggerated pout.

"Jonguppie makes funny faces."

"I don't mean to," Jongup said mournfully. 

Yongguk nudged Himchan's knee. "So watch the movie and not Jongup?"

Himchan just gave him a withering look. He'd never been good at watching not-Jongup things when Jongup was available.

"So they banished me," he concluded with a kind of glum satisfaction.

"We're just too funny," Youngjae sighed. "We're _dangerously_ funny. You should be safe to hang out with him, though, hyung," he added to Yongguk. Himchan let out a laugh and then groaned. 

"Dammit, Youngjae--"

"I'm sorry!" the singer yelped, darting away. Yongguk looked from Jongup to Himchan. 

"I'm not funny?"

"You're hilarious when you want to be," Himchan assured him. "But, like,  try to rein it in so we can hang out; I'm bored out of my mind." He glanced at Jongup, still hovering in the door. "Go sit on Youngjae or something, Jongup-ah."

The dancer brightened a bit and disappeared. Himchan rolled his eyes at Yongguk. Yongguk searched his face.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine," Himchan said, too quickly. 

_Fine_ , said the man who'd performed with a cracked rib, neglecting to mention the searing pain in his chest until after they'd finished the show. Who'd insisted on performing _again_ once his secret was out, grousing as he was kept to the sidelines for the dances. Yongguk didn't put much stock in what Himchan considered _fine_.

"Did you take your painkillers?" he asked. Himchan nodded to his bedside table, and Yongguk saw the orange prescription bottle amidst the clutter. So that was something.

Yongguk settled himself more comfortably, careful not to dislodge Himchan's pillows. 

He wanted to ask, but he'd been avoiding it, fairly sure he already knew the answer.

Question: _Why didn't you tell us you were hurt?_  

Answer: _Because it's our first time performing as six since_ you _abandoned us for months._

Of course Himchan wouldn't be nearly as accusing as Yongguk's own mind, but still, he had no doubt the sentiment was the same. Himchan had been left in charge while Yongguk pulled himself together. He did an admirable job--all of the members did. But Yongguk knew how hard it had been on all of them. They'd so looked forward to being reunited, to promoting as six after so long. Of course Himchan would rather suffer quietly than miss anything.

_My fault_ , Yongguk thought, eyes darting to Himchan's torso, not that he could see anything through the hoodie.

"Hey." Himchan's voice cut through his guilt. He was solemn, frowning. "Cut it out."

"What?" Yongguk said, looking away. But Himchan had always been able to see straight through him. 

"Stop thinking that. You're wrong, you know."

"You don't know what I'm thinking."

"Of course I do," Himchan said with a dismissive little sniff, even as he reached for Yongguk's hand to give it a comforting squeeze. He ran the pad of his thumb over Yongguk's knuckles. "But you're full of crap. My hair looks _great_ like this."

Yongguk blinked, then had to swallow his laugh, knowing how instinctively Himchan would laugh along. He squeezed his hand  back. 

"Your head looks like a giant strawberry," he said fondly. 

"So what? Everyone loves strawberries," Himchan declared. He smiled, but his eyes stayed serious on Yongguk's face, searching. Yongguk wanted to squirm under his gaze, look away. 

But he recalled Himchan's face, tight with worry, months before.

_Please stop hiding from us, Bbang._

Yongguk had sworn not to. So now he just pulled an apologetic face for Himchan, who pursed his lips.

Yongguk ran his index finger down Himchan's arm. This wasn't the time to parcel out blame, and there was no point anyway. Himchan would never lay any on him but Yongguk would never believe himself free of it. It was an impasse they'd reached before. Best to let it rest for now.

"Hey," he said quietly. "Should I...is it cool if I stay tonight?" 

The members had taken to sleeping in his apartment when they wanted to spend the night with him. Other than a few times in Daehyun's apartment, which was as peaceful as his own, Yongguk had been more comfortable that way, and they'd all been eager to accommodate him. But now he felt the press to stay, to clap a hand over Youngjae's mouth before he could finish a terrible joke, to help Jongup's increasingly-unsubtle attempts to feed Himchan. To lie next to Himchan until he actually slept.

Himchan gave him an odd look. "That's _always_ a yes, Bbang. You don't have to ask."

Yongguk shrugged a trifle bashfully and slipped off the bed. 

"I'm grabbing something to sleep in, be right back."

He found Jongup on the floor outside the room. He touched the crown of the dancer's head lightly.

"We didn't really kick him out," Jongup said, frowning at his hands. "I mean not for real." 

"He knows." Yongguk pulled the smaller man to his feet and slung an arm across his shoulders. "I'm gonna stay, if that's cool." Despite Himchan's assurance, he felt a bit hesitant, wary of disrupting the dynamic the three roommates had settled into. 

But Jongup brightened. 

" _Good_ ," he said, so fervently Yongguk blushed. 

"We can push the beds together," Youngjae chimed in, appearing out of nowhere like a be-aproned phantom, spatula in hand. "Unless you two would rather be on your own?"

They were getting better at these negotiations. There could so easily have been jealousy among the six, but they were all learning there was no need for it, learning how to give each other space when they needed it. 

He gave Jongup's shoulder a squeeze as he released it. 

"We can push the beds together." He didn't want to risk cuddling Himchan while he was injured, but he knew it would make him happy just to have them all _there_. He nodded at Youngjae's spatula.

"Do you have something on the stove?"

"Fu--" Youngjae swallowed a curse and disappeared as quickly as he'd come. 

"Himchannie wouldn't eat earlier. Help us convince him," Jongup told Yongguk, who nodded. He'd been on the receiving end of Youngjae's particular brand of "convincing" more than a few times himself, and he couldn't help feeling a little sorry for Himchan. Still, the dongsaengs were right.

"I'm gonna change," he said. 

Plenty of his own clothes were still scattered in the closet, but he went for an old t-shirt of Jongup's and a pair of shorts he was pretty sure had originally been Junhong's before Himchan snagged them. 

When he returned to the bedroom, Jongup had already dragged the second bed halfway across the room before apparently getting distracted and roped into a thumb war with Himchan. He seemed to be narrating the end of the movie that the older man had missed. Himchan was watching Jongup's face instead of their hands, and so he kept losing, but they kept playing anyway. 

Yongguk leaned in the doorway, smiling at the sight. A creaking floorboard alerted him to Youngjae's return before the singer rested his chin on his shoulder.

"I'm glad you're staying," he said quietly. "We've missed having you here, you know?"

There was no rebuke in his tone, but Yongguk still had to push away an instinctive flash of guilt. Those were his own issues, he knew. They didn't come from the others. 

"Me too," he said. "But I didn't realize how much." He glanced at Youngjae sideways to see him nod. 

"Well we're always here when you remember," he said. He bumped his nose affectionately on Yongguk's shoulder and slid past him into the bedroom.

"Theeeeeeere's _soup_!" he announced, then pointed menacingly at Himchan. "Serious soup. Solemn soup. No-laughing-allowed soup."

Himchan held up both hands in surrender, smiling. "As long as everyone has some," he said, his eyes finding Yongguk in the doorway. Yongguk nodded. 

Soup-in-bed turned out to be as terrible an idea as one would probably imagine, but the quartet merely moved bedrooms, winding up in a happy, albeit careful-of-a-certain-rib, tangle. They talked late into the night and there was more laughter than was probably wise, but, as Himchan said just before he drifted off to sleep, it was a small price to pay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted to tumblr 1/20/18.


	4. A HimJae Thing

“What difference does it make?” Himchan asks, pretending he hadn’t been gloating over his win the whole way home. Looking at Youngjae like _he’s_ the one being childish, as-fucking-if. “You’ll spend half your nights with me or Jonguppie anyway so who cares whose room is whose?”

He may have the slightest bit of a point, not that Youngjae would in a million years concede this, and anyway it’s the principle of the thing.

“If it doesn’t matter then let’s switch!” he says brightly. “I’ll take the biggest room and you’ll take the smallest. Of course you can sleep with me any time you want, hyung. I insist.” He bats his eyes a little, in spite–or is it because?–of the fact Himchan hates this particular method of flirting. 

“No way,” he says immediately. 

“A _ha_! So it _does_ matter!” Youngjae looks to Jongup in triumph, but the dancer is very pointedly pretending not to listen while he plays some game on his phone. Or maybe he’s truly not listening; after all these years it’s still sometimes hard to tell.

“Yah, let it go,” Himchan snorts, sealing yet another box with a double layer of packing tape. 

Youngjae has lost track of how many nights they’ve spent this way, trudging home after a full day of schedules, not to sleep or shower or fool around or anything _normal_ and _well-deserved_ , but rather to pack and prepare for their imminent move from the dorm. 

Well. He casts another look at Jongup, who has an empty box upside-down in his lap, atop which he’s balanced his phone to continue playing the aforementioned game. _Youngjae_ wouldn’t have been able to get away with that. Himchan had dragged them both to the communal closet and declared that they all had to fill three boxes before they could go to bed. Their things aren’t going to pack themselves, and lord knows TS isn’t about to help.

“You’d switch if _Jonguppie_ got the smallest room,” Youngjae gripes. Himchan is just pulling an empty box into his lap but he stops.

“Uh?”

Ugh, Youngjae feels gross suddenly. He pushes himself to his feet, grabbing a box. “Forget it." 

"Youngjae-yah–”

“I’m packing stuff from my room, relax,” he says over his shoulder, stomping down the hall. His room is a half-packed disaster and he barely looks at what he’s stuffing into the box. He’ll sort it out in the new place if they ever have a second to actually settle in.

Himchan’s only a few breaths behind him. Youngjae hears him come in but doesn’t turn to look, purposely keeping his back turned. He’s not sure why he’s upset suddenly, except he’s so _tired_.

“You won’t be able to find anything if you pack like that.” Himchan sounds perfectly calm now, which is so typical of him–he’ll ramp bickering up to eleven with anyone, but as soon as his sparring partner crosses over into anger, he backs off into this reasonable zone, always quick with an apology or peace offering.

Kind of irritating when Youngjae’s in the mood for a fight.

“We’re never home anyway,” he says, stuffing another armful of flotsam into the box. Whatever, he might be _glad_ later to unpack a box with an old router and that jacket Daehyun left here last week and the gray socks–correction, sock, singular–that isn’t quite holey enough to throw away yet–

“In that case, remind me why you’re so worried about the size of your bedroom?” Himchan asks. Youngjae lets out a huff. 

“I don’t care about the room, I was just being funny for the fans.”

“Okaaaaay…and when it was just us in the closet, that was…rehearsal?”

_Oh, shut up, Himchan_ , Youngjae thinks but doesn’t say. It’s so annoying when he’s right. 

His careless packing brings him too close to the bed where Himchan’s perched, and in a second the older man hooks his ankles around Youngjae’s knees and reels him in. Youngjae stumbles and just manages to get his hands up, pressing against Himchan’s chest to stop himself before he knocks his teeth in with his forehead. Himchan smiles.

“That was close.”

“Pabo,” Youngjae says, meaning to snap, but it comes out more of a grumble. Himchan’s smile softens.

“And what was that thing about Jonguppie, hmm?” he says quietly. Youngjae shrugs. Jongup’s Himchan’s favorite, everyone knows that. Even with the six of them together, he’s not crazy enough to think anyone could supplant the dancer as Himchan’s favorite. It doesn’t bother Youngjae, usually; if it did, he wouldn’t still be living with them. 

“You’d really let him have the smallest bedroom?” he asks, skeptical. Himchan rolls his eyes.

“Sure. For the same reasons I’ll let you, or I’d take it myself. We all share anyway,” he says. 

“And that’s fine unless one of the others wants to stay over. They’ll all wind up in the biggest room just because it feels most convenient.” Youngjae tries not to pout. Himchan’s frowning now. 

“You think I’d keep the others from you?” he asks, looking a bit hurt. Youngjae winces. 

“Well–not on purpose,” he mutters. Himchan’s frown deepens. 

“And you think I favor Jonguppie over you.”

Youngjae barely holds in his answer of _obviously_. Himchan studies him and then his legs abruptly release him. Youngjae stumbles again, off-balance. Himchan steadies him with a brief hand to his elbow and then he’s halfway to the door before Youngjae has properly found his feet. 

“Finish that box and go to sleep,” Himchan says shortly, and is gone before Youngjae can stop him, or figure out if he even wants to.

*

It was a bad night. They’ve had a few over the past six years. Sleep has always been their reset, and Youngjae wakes feeling better–not _rested_ , exactly, the night started too late and ended too early for that–but better. He wakes Jongup with a tackle and a tickle, dodging his arm as the dancer tries to pull him to his bed, and darts down the hall. 

He’d assumed Himchan slept in the third bedroom–they do all like to sleep alone occasionally–but when he pokes his head in, the bed is empty. 

The argument from the night before comes back, a twinge of disquiet.

“Jongup-ah, where’s Himchan hyung?”

Jongup is already three-quarters of the way back to sleep and blinks blankly at Youngjae.

“Who are _you_?”

He’s useless when he’s like this. Youngjae leaves him, starts a pot of coffee, texts Himchan. 

_Gym_ , comes the terse reply moments later. Then nothing.

*

It’s a bad day.

It’s nothing _terrible_ ; Himchan isn’t ignoring him or anything, but he manages to keep at least three members between himself and Youngjae at all times throughout practice.

_Drama queen_ , Youngjae thinks irritably as his stomach flops when Himchan veers away from him to clasp Geunsoo genially around the shoulder during the break, not returning to the group until it’s time to start again. 

Even so, it’s uncomfortable. Himchan’s not usually one to hold a grudge. Youngjae’s ready to throttle him after practice, but Jongup pulls him aside first.  

“Hey, I’m staying over with Junhongie tonight. He thinks he can beat my high score,” he says, scoffing affectionately. Junhong overhears and beats on his chest like King Kong before kneeling to change his shoes. 

“You don’t have to run off because of my thing with Himchan last night,” Youngjae says after a quick glance around to be sure none of the staff are nearby. 

“He asked me to,” Jongup says with a shrug. “Besides, gets me out of packing for a night.” He grins and lets his hand brush Youngjae’s and then he and Junhong are leaving, already sparring.

Youngjae stands still, watching Himchan in the mirror as he pulls on his coat across the studio, talking to Yongguk and Daehyun now. 

Himchan asked Jongup to stay with one of the others for the night? Youngjae’s heart sinks at the thought. 

This does not bode well.

*

The drive back to the dorm is silent.

The dorm is silent–and messy. Youngjae thinks longingly of the new apartment–so close now!–with its extra space for avoiding boyfriends who are being eerily quiet.

He expects Himchan to hand him an empty box after their shoes and coats are off. They’re almost packed now, but, as Daehyun’s been known to say, _almost isn’t done_.

Instead, Himchan goes to the kitchen. Youngjae considers running off to his room, but the hell with that; if they’re going to have it out, he’d rather get it over with.

Himchan returns a moment later with two plastic cups, wine for him and juice for Youngjae, which he hands over.

“Thanks?” he says. He’s never liked drinking much, but especially after practice when it only ever gives him a headache.

Himchan just nods and hooks a finger around Youngjae’s collar, tugging lightly until he steps forward. 

“C'mon,” he says tiredly, and Youngjae follows him to his own room. They sit on his bed. He’s still not sure what’s happening. Himchan’s glaring at his wine and drinking it faster than he probably should.

“You’re wrong,” he says abruptly. “Jongup isn’t my favorite. You’re all my favorite.”

Youngjae can’t help but make a small disbelieving sound and oops, now Himchan’s glare is turned on him. 

“Fine, okay!” Youngjae agrees hastily, drinking his juice because his mouth is dry all of a sudden. He drinks all of it. 

Himchan’s still glaring, dammit, and now Youngjae has no plan.

The older man sets his cup on the floor and Youngjae does the same, half wondering if they’re about to fight. They’ve played a few games of Bloody Knuckles over the years that lived up to their name. 

Himchan knocks him over, and it’s not Youngjae’s fault if he yelps a bit because, like, warn a guy. Then Himchan’s stretched out on top of him, his frown growing meditative.

“You’re all my favorite,” he repeats quietly. “That means you too, dummy.”

Youngjae’s throat is growing tight, ugh, he’s so _tired_. Again. Still.

“I know, I’m not like–writhing in mental turmoil or anything. You just treat him different is all,” he says, willing the tears away. Crying would be stupid. This isn’t even a big deal. Sometimes he really hates how easily he’s brought to tears.

“I treat all of you differently,” Himchan says. “Cause you’re all different. You think I’d tackle Bbang like this without warning? You think I could even get Junhong-ah to budge if I tried?”

“So…lucky me?” Youngjae guesses. Himchan kisses the tip of his nose. 

“Lucky you,” he confirms. “You can have that room if you really want. But don’t tell the fans or they’ll think I’m going soft.”

“In your old age,” Youngjae teases. Himchan’s a pleasant pressure on him, one knee sliding between Youngjae’s thighs. He’s quickly forgetting what they’d been arguing about. 

“Yah–” Himchan raises a hand, threatening a flick, and Youngjae laughs, trying to dodge, until he relents and kisses him instead. 

“You’re my favorite too, you know,” Youngjae tells him honestly when they part. “I mean–all of you are, this shouldn’t go to your head or anything–”

“Oh, shut up.” Himchan kisses him again and then rolls away. Youngjae makes a protesting sound. “New game,” Himchan announces, and oh god he has a wicked grin now. “Whoever packs the most in the next ten minutes gets the big room, _okay start_!” He grabs the stack of empty boxes from just outside the door and is gone, cackling madly as Youngjae yells in protest.

The ten minutes are productive, but they find themselves distracted before they can determine the winner. 

Oh well, Youngjae thinks as he drifts off to the soft sound of Himchan’s breath in his ear, his arm slung over his chest. They can always play again tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted to tumblr 1/21/18.


	5. A Himdae thing

Jongup meets him in the hallway outside the apartment, and Daehyun can see at a glance that the normally implacable dancer is at his wit’s end.

“Jonguppie,” he greets him, casually petting his hair, which is standing on end after he’s apparently tried to pull it out of his head. 

“Can you do something?” Jongup asks without preamble. “He’s making me crazy and I can’t talk to him right now.” His frustration is clear in the tight lines of his face, the frenzied flop of his hair, but Daehyun can see his distress just as obviously. It isn’t often he has to call in one of the others for this kind of thing. 

If Jongup were one of the others–say, Youngjae–Daehyun would tease him. But an upset Moon Jongup makes Daehyun want to do exactly what he does now: finish petting his hair, and pull him into a hug. 

“I’ve got this,” he says confidently, releasing him. “Go get some air or something. Get a hamburger. Call Junhongie; he’s been texting me all morning, I think he’s bored–”

Jongup catches his hand and squeezes. “Thanks, hyung. I owe you one.”

But Daehyun shakes his head: that’s not how this works.

The apartment smells of disinfectant, and there’s a clattering sound coming from the kitchen. Daehyun toes off his shoes and makes his way there, stopping in the doorway to appreciate his complete lack of surprise at what he finds there.

“Wow, hyung. That looks clean enough to eat off of,” he observes. 

Himchan looks up from the counter he’s scrubbing to turn his glare on Daehyun. 

“That’s the idea,” he says tersely. 

He’s in full cleaning mode in a pair of loose shorts and a tank top, a bandana pulled over his hair. Daehyun glances around the kitchen. Half of it is already spotless while the other half seems tensed in anticipation of the brutal scouring it’s about to receive.

“What are you doing here?” Himchan asks, not looking up from his task. 

Daehyun considers telling the truth and decides against it. The news that Jongup begged for help dealing with him probably won’t be helpful right now.

“I wanted to see what you were up to,” he says instead, smiling. “I missed you guys.”

“Yeah, well. Jonguppie’s around here somewhere,” Himchan mutters, ignoring Daehyun’s flirting. 

He has deep circles under his eyes, the singer notices, the kind he usually covers up with a little BB cream, even if he’s just hanging out at home. 

“He was heading out when I got here,” Daehyun says. “I thought I’d come see you since you’ll be so busy with rehearsals soon.”

Himchan’s hand stills for a breath before he goes back to wiping down the counter mechanically. So Jongup had been right.

“Lucky me,” Himchan says, his voice clipped and annoyed. No wonder Jongup was losing his mind; when Himchan is in this state he’s frankly impossible. No amount of charm or humor can get through and everything he says is barbed and hostile. 

Jongup’s usually the best at diffusing this mood, letting Himchan’s words roll easily off his back. Himchan’s rarely able to stay grumpy for long around the dancer. Daehyun wonders how long this has been going on for Jongup to be so frazzled.

No use worrying about that now. He sheds his jacket and rolls up his sleeves. 

“How can I help?” he asks. Himchan squints at him suspiciously.

“Help?” he repeats. Daehyun rolls his eyes. 

“Don’t look at me like that. You know I actually keep my apartment _clean_ , unlike you slobs. Give me something to do; we’ll finish this and do something fun.”

It’s not exactly what he had in mind for his day off, but no way he’s leaving Himchan alone in this headspace. Not when Daehyun understands, not when there’s a chance he can actually help.

So he follows Himchan’s directives, turning the full force of his not-inconsiderable cleaning skill to the stovetop, then kneeling side-by-side with Himchan in front of the fridge. He holds back on teasing (although seriously, someone will need to have a word with Himchan, Jongup and Youngjae on the merits of cleaning out the refrigerator more than once a century because _gross_ , guys) and they work in silence. In time, the quiet grows less tense, and by the time the entire kitchen is sparkling, Himchan’s shoulders have relaxed somewhat. 

He stands in the doorway surveying their work. After a moment’s debate with himself, Daehyun slips his arms around the older man’s middle and rests his chin on his shoulder.

“You’re going to be amazing, you know,” he says quietly. Himchan tenses again but he doesn’t push Daehyun away, which seems promising. 

“I keep thinking…” he begins, and trails off. Daehyun gives him a moment to finish the thought–a trick he learned from Yongguk. But his patience only stretches so far and after a minute he has to ask.

“Thinking what?”

“What if it’s a mistake to do the play right now,” Himchan says finally. 

So now they’re getting down to it. Daehyun’s noticed something off with Himchan ever since he auditioned, and more frequently after his first callback and since he got the call he’d earned the lead part. The group had been ecstatic with pride, but Himchan himself had been oddly closed-mouthed about it. Where he had initially been so excited about the opportunity, he soon turned uncharacteristically blank-faced. 

Daehyun pitches his voice soft, sure somehow if he startles him he’ll never get a straight answer.

“Why would it be a mistake?”

Himchan sighs. “It’ll take me away from the group. This might be our last year, I don’t want to…” Yet another sigh. 

Oh. Daehyun tightens his grip on Himchan, pressing his lips to his shoulder.  
“And here I thought you were just nervous,” he says. Himchan laughs a little, the sound sending a warm rush through Daehyun.

“Why would I be nervous? I’m gonna be great,” Himchan says with something closer to his usual comedic brand of bravado. Daehyun laughs too.

“I know you are." 

He turns Himchan around in his arms and smiles up at him. Himchan huffs a little and rolls his eyes but he feels _here_ again, the guardedness gone from his eyes. 

"You’ve wanted to act for forever,” Daehyun reminds him. “This is exciting. And the group won’t do anything important without you.”

There’s not much he can say about the other part–the group’s separation is imminent as Yongguk and Himchan near their enlistment time. No one wants to discuss or acknowledge it. No one can go very long without thinking about it.  

“I don’t just want to be there for the important stuff,” Himchan mutters. 

Daehyun can understand. They’ve had to limp through a few comebacks one member short. Each time felt wrong, everything off-balance, but at least those were always for a good reason. Daehyun only has to remember Himchan’s pained grimace as he tried to dance through an injury or the horribly blank look on Yongguk’s face as he tried to hide a panic attack from the members to understand that there were sometimes far more important things than appearing as six.

But the other things, V lives and fan meets and variety shows, are hard to miss–especially for an individual schedule. Daehyun’s had to sit out a few for his own burgeoning theatrical career. To put it plainly, it sucks every time as he’s torn between guilt and an awful _left-out_ feeling he keeps thinking he should have grown out of by now.

“I know,” he says simply. “But you still get to come home to Jonguppie and Youngjae every night. Or me or Yongguk hyung or Junhongie; just say the word. It’s not like we won’t see each other.”

Himchan nods. There’s still a little vertical crease between his brows, the one Jongup presses away with his thumb when he sees it and thinks no one’s looking. Jongup’s not here so Daehyun presses it smooth himself.

“Enough cleaning,” he says, laying a loud, smacking kiss on Himchan’s cheek that makes him groan and swat at him playfully. “Let’s have some fun.”

They wind up on the couch playing one of Youngjae’s video games. Youngjae’s not here so there’s no one to tease them for being terrible at it. They tease each other extra loudly to make up for his absence. They’re both shameless cheats, Daehyun kicking Himchan’s hands so he fumbles just when he was doing well, Himchan tickling his feet in retaliation. They’re so noisy they don’t hear the front door open, but at some point Jongup’s there, watching with that little Jongup smile.

Daehyun pauses the game. 

“Jonguppie!” he shouts joyfully. It always takes a few minutes for his voice to remember how to work at a normal human volume when he’s been hanging out with Himchan for a while. Jongup is used to this by now and doesn’t so much as flinch. 

“I brought snacks,” he says, holding up a bag from the convenience store right down the block. Daehyun wonders if he actually got himself to go any farther from home than that; Jongup isn’t good at leaving Himchan when he’s in a mood, even now that there are four other people who will happily step in for him. The dancer surveys Himchan’s face with some trepidation. 

Daehyun squeezes the older man’s shoulder and pushes himself off the couch, taking the bag from Jongup and heading for the kitchen.

“We’ll eat off _plates_ so this place can be clean for longer than an hour,” he says lightly. 

He takes his time in the kitchen, rattling around to give the others privacy. They’re all together now, but he’s found this is still important, each and every configuration in the group. Each needs their own special care and upkeep, and Daehyun knows Himchan won’t feel totally better until whatever tension with Jongup is resolved.

After a minute he pokes his head out of the kitchen. He’s nosy because he _cares_ , okay.

“I know,” Himchan is saying. He’s standing in front of Jongup, a small distance between them. Daehyun holds his breath. “I’m sorry for being so…you know.”

“You’re very annoying,” Jongup tells him, and then steps forward to hug him. His words are exasperated but Daehyun can see the relief in his face, and the smaller man holds Himchan for longer–and, judging by the way Himchan’s face is going purple, tighter–than is strictly necessary. 

The hug works magic; when they part, Daehyun can see the tension is gone, both their smiles real and relaxed again. Thank fucking goodness. He’s ready for a snack. 

He sails back into the room. 

“Dinner is served!” he announces, lifting plates upon which he has lovingly arranged the bags of chips. 

“Dinner?” Himchan repeats disapprovingly, but Jongup just grins at him. They sit on the couch, Himchan sandwiched between them. The plates are ignored–well, that was predictable–and Jongup falls off the couch laughing when he sees the TV and what passes for high scores when Himchan and Daehyun are playing. (Also predictable.)

Then there’s more playing and eating and Jongup makes his famous hot chocolate (the secret ingredient of which is an extra packet of chocolate powder, which is objectively disgusting but somehow seems like a good idea when it’s served with that sunny Jongup smile) and by the time Youngjae gets home, it’s dark outside and they’re all tangled together and ready for a real dinner. 

Daehyun calls Yongguk to wheedle him into coming over, while Youngjae does the same for Junhong. Later they will be six. It will be loud and it will be light and all will be right. 

All in all, Daehyun thinks, grimacing exagerratedly at Himchan’s unrestrained laughter in his ear, not a bad day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted to tumblr 1/14/18.


	6. A Banghim thing

Some of them find all this easier than others.

After much hemming, hawing and general denial, the group becomes a romantic tangle of six. It’s a relief in some ways–Yongguk can stop feeling creepy for noticing Youngjae’s lips or having feelings about Jongup’s eyebrows now that he knows they apparently notice things about him right back. 

But in other ways there’s this new pressure. Yongguk’s always found it difficult to maintain a relationship with _one_ person, and now he needs to manage a relationship with five. 

 _Like that’s anything new_ , Yongnam points out fairly when Yongguk brings this up. _You guys have_ always _been kind of…intense_. 

He’s right, but also wrong. Sure, Yongguk’s always been there for the members any time they need to talk–music, insecurities, family–but now he feels a stronger urge than ever to _fix_ things. He didn’t think he could possibly feel more responsible for the others than as the leader of B.A.P, but now, in this new configuration, he feels nearly paralyzed, terrified he’ll do the wrong thing and ruin it for everyone.

He’s ~~hiding~~ working late in the studio when the door crashes open behind him.

“ _There_ you are. Of course.” It’s Himchan. Of course.

Yongguk just hums in reply without turning. He knows if he looks at his–boyfriend? partner? Oh god, _labels_ –Himchan will see right through him. He’s not sure he wants him to know he’s panicking. Slightly. With good reason, though. Because honestly, it’s a lot to risk, it’s the group, it’s their careers, it’s five of the most important people in his _life_ for crying out loud and they’re all younger and he’s responsible for all of them and–

“Bbang.” Himchan pokes him at the ticklish spot between his shoulder blades. “Your posture is terrifying. What’s your brain doing right now?” His words are teasing but his voice is as gentle as Himchan’s voice ever gets. He circles around and leans on the edge of the desk so he can see Yongguk’s face. 

“Nothing, I’m–just working.”

He’s a bad liar. Himchan makes as if to flick his forehead, then pushes the hair off it instead. Yongguk looks at him without meaning to.

Himchan’s still probably the best-looking person he’s ever seen. That much was obvious from their very first meeting. His nose is perfect, his skin flawless, the shape of his lips unreal, and all this has exactly nothing to do with why Yongguk loves him. 

Himchan’s good at the extremes, vacillating between chaotic, hilarious mood-making one minute and calm focus the next. Okay, he tends to land on the former more often, but Yongguk knows he’s more than capable of the latter, when he’s playing an instrument or taking care one of the dongsaengs–or Yongguk himself–and thinks no one’s looking. 

Probably anyone you asked would guess Yongguk prefers this quieter side, but in truth he’s always liked Himchan’s energy and even his noise. 

(Fortunately. If Yongguk was as allergic to noise as people think, he’d never have survived being in this group.)

Himchan pokes him again. “Yah, come back,” he says. “You’re drifting.”

Yongguk smiles, capturing Himchan’s finger in his fist rather than dodging it the way he used to. 

“Sorry,” he says. “Just stuck in work mode.”

Himchan doesn’t smile back. “No, I mean you’re _drifting_ ,” he repeats quietly. “From us. Already.” There’s mild reproach in his voice. Yongguk winces, considers trying to deny it. But when he’s busted he’s busted.

“Sorry,” he says again, then isn’t sure how to continue. Himchan kicks him.

“Talk to me. Or talk to Daehyun. Or–Jonguppie? He’s a really good listener and he’s better at shutting up than I am.”

Yongguk almost smiles, then realizes he still has a hold of Himchan’s hand. He’s kind of squeezing it. He loosens his grip but doesn’t let go. 

“If this blows up in our faces–”

“It won’t.”

“You can’t promise me that.”

Himchan sighs, turning his hand in Yongguk’s and linking their fingers together. 

“Well, no,” he concedes. “But seriously, we’ve made it this long without killing each other. And now we can all use sex to blow off steam, so that’ll be fun.”

Yongguk laughs despite himself, but it fades quickly. 

“I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

Himchan frowns. “What?”

It takes a minute to sort through it, to find the words. As always, they lose a little of their _right_ ness when they come out. “Sometimes I need–you,” Yongguk says slowly. “And–sometimes I need Youngjae, or one of the others. And sometimes I need no one. Or Yongnam, or Sungwon hyung, or–does that–make sense?” He gives Himchan a nervous look. He’s still frowning but he doesn’t look angry or even confused.

“So like if right now you needed Junhong but you were stuck with me?” Himchan says. Yongguk nods once. “Bbang, you know you could just _tell_ me, right?”

Oh. Yongguk blinks. This had honestly not occurred to him. 

“You wouldn’t care?”

“Well. After I retrieved the shards of my _shattered_ ego,” Himchan begins huffily, then softens, smiling. “Nah. It’s the same for all of us, you know. Of course you won’t always want me. That’s the beauty of there being six of us–hopefully one of us will be right most of the time, and we can entertain each other when you need to be alone.”

Yongguk tries to remember the problems with this. But Himchan has a way of making things–messy, complicated things–sound simple.

“I keep forgetting you know me,” he says finally, and Himchan laughs. He stands up, tugging at Yongguk’s hand until he rises too. 

“I’ll remind you as often as it takes. Now come on, we waited on you for dinner.”

Yongguk freezes. “Shit.”

“We knew you’d forget,” Himchan says cheerfully. “Don’t worry, there’s ramyun.“ 

He waits while Yongguk gathers his things, shutting down the programs for the night, then they make for the elevator. Yongguk pulls him in when they’re inside. It’s a stupid risk when they’ll be alone outside in a minute anyway, but Yongguk’s need for touch is often a fleeting thing and he’s learning to act on it when he can. 

He presses his nose against Himchan’s, an affectionate smoosh. 

"Pabo,” Himchan mutters, but he’s grinning. Yongguk would kiss that grin off–he can do that now; it’s still a shock–but there will be time for that later. They part just as the doors open.

It’s a short drive to the dorm. They’re almost there when Yongguk actually stops to think about what Himchan just told him. 

It seems like as good a time to test his theory as any.

“Hey,” he says, then has to clear his throat and say it again so Himchan can actually hear him. “Can we stop somewhere? Just us?”

Himchan’s eyebrows reach for his hairline, but he takes a left turn instead of a right. 

“Sure. Text Youngjae or someone so they don’t wait for us.” Yongguk tenses slightly but Himchan squeezes his knee. “It’s fine, Bbang, I swear.”

He texts Youngjae, gets a **_more food for us, then! ;p_** in response, along with a heart. Something loosens in his chest.

Himchan takes them to Yongguk’s apartment. It’s a good choice; while they like drinking together and have closed down more than one bar over the years, they can’t really be _together_ in public the way they are now, not if they don’t want to risk it being splashed all over twitter before morning. 

Besides, there’s nowhere besides the studio where Yongguk feels quite so himself. Himchan knows he can breathe best here. 

They kick off their shoes just inside the door. As always, Himchan makes himself at home, gathering drinks from the kitchen before joining Yongguk on the couch.

“Don’t think this gets you out of eating dinner,” he said sternly, settling his legs comfortably across Yongguk’s lap. “We’ll order something. Or d’you want me to cook?”

Yongguk can’t help smiling. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I like feeding you.”

Yongguk rests his cheek on the back of the couch and looks at Himchan for a beat. “You’re much better at all this than I am. At the, y’know. _Us_ thing.”

“Obviously,” Himchan snorts, then softens. “You’ll get better, you know.”

Yongguk does _not_ know this. He wishes he had Himchan’s confidence. The other man must see his doubt because he tickles his thigh with his toe. 

“You will,” he insists. “Remember when we first formed the group? You were so nervous it just came off as _terrifying_. But you had Junhong feeling most comfortable with you in no time. This isn’t really all that different.”

Yongguk gives him a look so incredulous that Himchan laughs. 

“I’m pretty sure this is different from most things we’ve been through,” Yongguk says. He’s pretty sure they’ve fallen all the way off the map. 

“Maybe,” Himchan admits, taking a sip straight from the bottle of soju and passing it to Yongguk. “But we’ve had way worse. Remember _Tah-dah_?” He shudders and Yongguk almost loses his mouthful of soju laughing. Himchan grins. “Perspective, Bbang,” he says. “It’s all about perspective.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted to tumblr 3/18.


	7. A Banghimlo thing

" _Hey_." There is suddenly a Himchan-weight lying across Jongup's back. He smiles at his phone and doesn't crane his neck to look around.

"Hey."

"Wanna try that new noodle place tonight? I actually talked Bbang into coming out." Himchan sounds proud, as well he should. It always means something to get Yongguk to eat anything for fun. 

Jongup brightens and is about to agree when he remembers. 

"You should take Junhong," he says.

"You don't want to come?" Himchan's breath is warm on his ear. Jongup shifts a little, uncomfortable but not from the weight. 

"Just--I think he'd--appreciate it more."

Himchan is quiet. Jongup can hear him thinking, hear him wondering. He sighs and shifts again, this time indicating he wants to roll over. Himchan lifts enough to allow this, then settles again so they're chest-to-chest on the bed. _Bare-_ chest-to-bare-chest because Himchan's just showered and Jongup understands that shirts are just society's bullshit. Himchan's hair drips a perfect drop on his nose.

"Aishh," he complains quietly. Himchan grins and licks the water off. 

"Sorry," he says. "So wait--you don't want noodles or you don't want to hang out?" 

"Neither. I just think--Junhong would really like to come," Jongup says carefully. Himchan gives him a quizzical look.

"So we'll invite him too. Jonguppie, what's the problem?"

He sighs, but thinks about the maknae's troubled face the night before and steels himself. 

"I think Junhong feels a little...left out."

Himchan's frown deepens and he props himself up on his elbows to see Jongup better. 

"Left out of what?"

"Our whole--thing, this whole relationship. At least--at least with you and Yongguk hyung."

He winces in anticipation of Himchan's hurt. Nothing upsets him as quickly as the idea he isn't appreciating the members properly. 

"What?  _Why_? We all just had dinner twice last week and he stayed over last night--"

"Yeah, we _all_ went out. I think he mostly talked to Youngjae that night. And last night he stayed with me."

 _I don't think this is gonna work,_ he'd confided in Jongup quietly, their late night conversation turning serious. _I'll always just be The Maknae to them, you know? Whenever we're all--y'know, doing stuff?--Himchan and Yongguk hyung hardly even look at me._

Jongup tells Himchan as much now, watches his handsome face turn worried. 

"He thinks you treat me differently and he doesn't really get why since we're so close in age."

"I mean--you're _different_ , that's why," Himchan says, indignant. "He _is_ our maknae, we have to take care of him!"

"I think that means something different in a relationship," Jongup says. He tilts his head, studying Himchan. "He's not sure you guys really want him...like that."

It's Himchan's turn to wince and now he won't meet Jongup's eyes. The dancer feels a burst of nerves. What if Junhong's right? It took so much for the six of them to admit they wanted this, but what if the hyungs only want it from _some_ of them? Everything will fall apart if anyone is excluded, he's sure of it. 

"We do, it's just--" Himchan breaks off. Jongup lets him think, runs his hands up and down his back lightly, feeling the goosebumps rise in their wake. "Sometimes I look at him onstage or in practice and--he's so _good_ ," Himchan says finally. "Like, so _impressive_. And I'm so proud of him and I know he's gonna take over the world any second--"

Jongup just hums in agreement, smiling a little. 

"But then sometimes I catch him sleeping or he'll get that pout like he used to and suddenly he's fifteen again and I feel--weird," Himchan says, the words coming in a rush. Jongup has the sense they've been building up for some time. He's suddenly glad he brought this up. 

"Like how could I look at him the other way, isn't that wrong? Sometimes it feels--wrong." Himchan looks at him pleadingly. 

Jongup considers this. "It doesn't feel wrong with me?"

Himchan shakes his head. "We started so much earlier. And you've _always_ been cooler than me, so you didn't feel so much younger."

Jongup grins at this, but it fades quickly.

"Junhong's an adult," he reminds Himchan. "He's been through more than a lot of people his age. And it's not like he doesn't, you know...want you guys. It's not like you had to convince him. You aren't doing anything wrong."

Himchan nods, but he still looks troubled. 

"I didn't mean for him to feel left out."

Jongup lifts his head to _boop_ the tip of Himchan's nose with his own. "I know. But so maybe it should just be the three of you tonight. Talk stuff out."

"With Bbang around, I'll be doing all the talking," Himchan complains. Jongup shrugs as best he can from his position, sympathetic but unwavering. 

"Just fix it," he says. 

*

Telling Yongguk is awkward, especially when the rapper puts a pillow over his own face and makes a strangled scream into it. He's flushed and rumpled-looking when Himchan pulls the pillow away.

"I thought we were being subtle," Bbang says. Himchan puts the pillow in his lap and then rests his head on it. Yongguk's fingers play in his hair. It's nice. It still feels novel, Yongguk touching him. He always used to pull away, or merely tolerate Himchan's head on his shoulder or arm around him. 

Himchan had always told himself not to take it personally, but it had stung sometimes. He hates to think he's unwittingly made Junhong feel the same way. 

"It's early," he says, blinking up at Yongguk. Even his _nostrils_ are manly, somehow, but then in Himchan's opinion, all of Yongguk is absurdly manly except his hands, which are elegant and give him a very shaky feeling in his chest. 

"It's almost seven."

"No, I mean--in terms of _us_ , like _relationship-us._ It's early. We can fix this." They have to. Starting this relationship was a risk, bigger than starting B.A.P in the first place, bigger than the lawsuit. Himchan'll be damned if it falls apart because of him, and he doesn't need Yongguk to say as much to know he feels the same.

"He's meeting us at 8," he goes on. "And after dinner we should all come back here so we can have privacy. Is that okay?"

He won't co-opt Yongguk's apartment without asking--Yongguk's boundaries are to be respected above all others--but the other man nods without hesitation. Himchan nods back, relieved. It helps a little that if he's been screwing up, at least Yongguk has, too. At least they can fix it together.

"Get dressed," he tells him without moving. Yongguk's hand moves from his hair and down to his face, the pad of his thumb tracing Himchan's lower lip. He _has_ to know what his hands do to him. 

"We have time," he says.

*

The noodle place is nice, full of shadowy booths, so even though it's full when they arrive, they have the illusion of privacy when they're led to their table. 

Yongguk and Himchan arrive first, not wanting Junhong to have to wait around for them. 

 _Right, this'll make up for_ everything, Yongguk thinks. 

He's nervous. His skin feels wrong on his frame the way it does whenever he _knows_ he's screwed something up, and this has to be the worst ever because there's no one he wants to do right by as much as Choi Junhong. 

"Just act natural," Himchan tells him, as though he isn't drumming his fingers anxiously on the table and jiggling his leg so hard Yongguk has to press his palm against his knee to make him stop. Himchan barely seems to notice. He's chewing on his straw. "We don't have to make a big _thing_ out of it, that might be even wor--Junhongie!" 

He slides off the end of the booth as the dancer arrives, breathless and smiling, dumping his backpack on the opposite side of the table to return Himchan's hug, which is public-appropriately back-slappy, but better than what Yongguk can manage from his spot next to the wall, which is nothing. Well, he smiles and nods and they fist-bump when Junhong slides in across the table.

"This place is cool, I'm starving," he says by way of greeting. "Did you order? Am I late?"

"Take a breath, Junhongie," Himchan says with a laugh. You'd never know to look at him that he was writhing in anxiety an hour before. But Himchan's always been better than Yongguk at hiding his real feelings, possibly because he gives the appearance of total transparency. He speaks his mind so often strangers probably assume he can't do anything else. Yongguk knows better.

"Were you at the studio?" he asks Junhong, pride warring with worry. He knows how much his habits have worn off on Junhong--the good and the bad.

The dancer nods eagerly. "Just for a few hours."

"On your own between promotions? Trying to make the rest of us look bad?" Himchan teases, making as if to hit Junhong across the table. Junhong just grins back unabashedly, sticking out his tongue. 

Yongguk used to envy the easy push-and-pull of Himchan and Junhong's relationship. Himchan never felt _responsible_ for Junhong the way Yongguk always has; never worried about setting an example. Yongguk's leadership status set him apart, and it was ages before he realized Himchan and Junhong's relationship was anything but _easy._ They've worked at it, though, hard enough to betray how much it means to them. Their conflicts are quickly solved these days--at least, until now. 

They order drinks, order food. Yongguk and Junhong dive deep into the kind of producer talk that Himchan usually shuts down fast out of boredom. Tonight he allows it, listening to their technical chatter with a small smile while he keeps everyone's drinks refilled. 

Yongguk starts to relax. It helps that Junhong's so interested; he learned some music production from Yongguk, but he's figured out much on his own. He's so experimental it brings Yongguk back to his early days in the studio when he was still pretending not to be basically imploding with nerves alongside TS's producer team. But he's always known when something _felt_ right, even before he could explain why. Junhong's more articulate than he was at that age, when he only felt truly himself with a pen and paper.

They finish dinner and Himchan kicks Yongguk under the table. 

"Come back to my place?" he blurts, kicking Himchan back. Junhong's eyes dart between the two of them. There's some _thing_ in his gaze Yongguk can't quite identify.

"Cool," is all he says.

*

Junhong loves coming to Yongguk hyung's apartment, but come on. 

"I know what you're doing," he tells them once they're inside. Himchan freezes in the act of pouring out more shots of soju. 

"What?"

His drinks from dinner make him bold. Junhong looks from one hyung to the other. Yongguk, still so painfully _cool_ after all these years. The way his tattoo peers above his shirt collar, the way his lips twist when he's trying not to smile or his brow furrows when he's writing--it all makes Junhong ache with want.

And Himchan. People think he's confident in his looks, but Junhong likes him best for his _real_ confidence, the ability to be ridiculous and make fun of himself and be _wrong_ , sometimes, all out in the open where people can see. He's so himself, and no matter how crazy he can make him, Junhong's always admired him for it. Plus he is _really_ good-looking.

It's annoying, because as smart and self-aware as they can be, right now his hyungs are fucking transparent. They look at each other all wide-eyed and nonplussed. Junhong sighs.

"Jongup talked to...you," he guesses, eyeing Himchan, who wilts guiltily. Of course. Jongup can keep a secret, but Junhong saw how worried he was when he confided in him. He probably thought he was doing Junhong a favor, spilling the beans.

"Junhong-ah," Yongguk says quietly. "We just wanted to talk about it, yeah."

Junhong shows admirable restraint by not tearing his face off in mortification. It helps that he's a little drunk. It helps that he's a little mad.

It's weird. He's been a little mad for a _while_ , watching how naturally the hyungs have seemed to take to their new _arrangement_. He's watched jealously as Yongguk slips an arm around Daehyun's waist, or as Himchan and Youngjae have all but disappeared into their own giggly world at the end of the couch. 

Oh, things have changed with the other hyungs--he's spent more than a few nights at Daehyun's apartment now, and practice sessions with Jongup can get _exceptionally_ sweaty these days, and Youngjae in particular likes to take him on real dates, which make him blush and squirm pleasantly.

But _these two,_ honestly.

"So talk," he says shortly, which immediately makes him feel childish, which immediately makes him feel stupid and embarrassed. It doesn't help that Yongguk rubs the back of his neck awkwardly and glances at Himchan, communicating with him in that annoying hyung way that always excludes everyone else.

Junhong will _not_ cross his arms over his chest like an angry teenager, no matter how much he wants to _._

Himchan sits next to him on the couch, facing him, stretching his legs over Junhong's lap.

"I'm glad Jonguppie told me," he says. "I'd always rather know when I'm being stupid."

Junhong wants to pout, but Himchan's voice lights a hopeful flicker in his chest. 

"What do you mean." He keeps his voice flat, just in case he's wrong, just in case he's about to be let down easy. Yongguk sits down on his other side, not quite as close, but Junhong knows enough not to take this personally.

"We didn't mean to be...different...with you," Yongguk says slowly.

Junhong squirms a little, antsy under the attention. 

"It's fine," he says tonelessly in place of what he _wants_ to say, which is something humiliatingly close to _please just want me like I want you_. He's pretty sure if he has to say this out loud he will simply drop into a hole of embarrassment from which he will never be able to climb.

"Yah." Himchan suddenly has a finger under his chin, tilting his head to meet his frowning gaze. "We didn't want you thinking we were a couple of creepy old men."

Junhong jerks his chin out of Himchan's grip and captures his finger in his teeth. Watches the way Himchan's eyes darken and flicker to his lips.

" _Old_?" Junhong repeats derisively, not letting his finger go. "Pabo."

Himchan smiles slightly. He doesn't try to pull his hand back. Junhong lets his lips close around the digit, slightly shocked at his own daring. Himchan's eyes watch the movement, his own lips parting. So _that's_ promising. Junhong presses his tongue against the pad of Himchan's finger and feels an answering flush of heat low in his belly. Himchan shifts a bit closer on the couch. 

Junhong remembers Yongguk and releases Himchan abruptly, glancing over, worried he'll find the rapper disgusted or annoyed or--

Yongguk captures his jaw in one sure hand and pulls him in for a kiss. 

They've kissed before; Junhong's kissed all of them by now. But this time it feels like Yongguk is trying to make a _point_ , and he's succeeding. Junhong's half-melted into the couch when they part for breath. 

"Okay?" Yongguk's breath ghosts across Junhong's lips. _Okay_ , like he's just made a fucking speech and wants to know it he's convinced his audience.

I mean. Sure.

"Okay," Junhong agrees, a bit shakily.

He notes that Himchan's been playing with his free hand this whole time, toying with his fingers. He glances over. There's color high in the older man's cheeks and he rolls his eyes at him when their gazes meet.

"Sure, like I want to follow _that_ ," he says, all piqued and annoyed, except also amused and--Junhong glances down, just to be sure--kind of turned on.

He crooks a finger and Himchan slides in close. His kiss is playful where Yongguk's was demanding, light nips and sucking, and Junhong is completely melted at the end of it. Liquid Junhong, good for nothing.

Then Yongguk takes a hold of his belt buckle and he's suddenly rock-hard again. Liquid what? Melted who?

Whatever his chemical makeup, he finds he's just right. They move to Yongguk's bed. The rapper pulls Junhong's t-shirt off and Himchan irritably demands to know the secrets of his abs while he works his way down them, and Junhong seriously can't answer questions under these conditions, is Himchan _kidding_?

It's unbelievably hot to be the focus of the hyungs' attention. There's no rush; they break for soju at one point and Yongguk attempts in slightly bleary fashion to explain that Junhong's really _attractive_ and he wasn't totally _prepared_ for this and-- _Oh, hush, Bbang, just kiss him already_ , Himchan interjects. Yongguk does.

There's soju and more kissing and there are hands in exciting places and Junhong has to grab wrists several times to stop himself coming before he's ready. There's husky teasing from Himchan and Yongguk is quiet but focused in a way that's so flattering Junhong feels light-headed. When the hyungs kiss each other in front of him, rather than making Junhong feel left out, it's so hot it almost finishes him off--but maybe that's because of what their hands are doing.

In the end, they wind up in a naked tangle. Junhong runs a hand up Himchan's thigh, appreciative, while the other traces the lines of Yongguk's chest tattoo. 

"You weren't just humoring me?" he ventures, and receives double slaps to the side of the head. 

"Yah, don't be stupid," Himchan says fondly. Yongguk just presses his lips to his collarbone. 

"Where's my phone?" Junhong asks. He hears Himchan groping around in the dark and then the object is being pressed into his hand. 

"What for?" Yongguk asks, a little grumpily. Junhong smiles.

"Just wanted to thank Jongup hyung..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not to point fingers but this was my friend Kiki's fault.


	8. An Important Question, Younglo

"Am I hot?"

Junhong lowers his phone to find Youngjae watching him from the other end of the couch. 

"Um." Junhong's eyes flicker over his hyung appraisingly. Youngjae kicks him.

"I don't mean right _now_. Just--in general, am I--?"

"Of course," Junhong says, frowning. 

In general _and_ right now, in his opinion. He's not sure he should say as much, though. Youngjae's in a pair of ancient pajama pants that have gone frayed around the ankles, and his t-shirt's all stretched-out and shapeless. If Junhong admits he finds him hot like this, his hair halfway between shower-damp and uncombed-floofy, Youngjae might think he's weird. Or worse, lying.

"Why do you ask?" he says. Youngjae shrugs and looks back to his phone.

"I'm in some twitter poll," he says carelessly. "Cutest idol. I'm always _cute_ , you know?"

He doesn't sound especially bothered by this, but the fact that he brought it up is telling. Junhong sorts through his thoughts, discarding responses that don't feel right. 

"Cute's a good thing," he says finally, then grimaces. This doesn't feel right, either. "Um. I hope so, anyway. They always call me cute, too."

"Not since you flashed your abs," Youngjae says, shaking his head in mock-censure. "Our maknae, all grown up."

He'd _better_ know Junhong's all grown up. The dancer can't help bristling a little under _maknae_. No escaping that.

But this isn't about his own hang-ups. He puts his phone face-down on the coffee table, giving Youngjae his full attention. 

"You don't have to show your abs to be hot, hyung."

"Don't have to _have_ abs, hopefully," Youngjae snorts. He's still looking at his phone, his expression composed into a mask of indifference that Junhong doesn't buy for a second. He bites his lip, wishing for a beat that Himchan or Jongup were home. Himchan would know what to say, probably, and Jongup always smooths things over just by being Jongup.

But it's just the two of them, and fuck it. Junhong scoots along the couch and squeezes in between it and Youngjae. The singer watches his progress with mixed suspicion and amusement. He doesn't resist when Junhong plucks his phone from his hand and drops it on the rug. 

"Are you about to stage an intervention?" Youngjae asks, giving him an arch look. Junhong takes one of his hands in both of his own and stares soulfully into his eyes for all of two and a half seconds, until Youngjae covers his face with his free hand, beginning to sputter in the precursor to his full laugh. Junhong bites his own back. He's not sure how, but this feels ridiculous _and_ important.

"Hyung," he begins, and they both laugh. Well, Junhong tries to turn his into a cough, but he's pretty sure it doesn't work. His stupid dimple gives him away every time. 

"Hyung," he tries again. He captures Youngjae's hand, tugging it from his face. "You're very hot."

Youngjae laughs again. "Oh, God."

"You _are_ ," Junhong insists. He's still smiling because it's impossible not to when faced with Yoo Youngjae, but he also means it. He thinks lots of people have a strangely limited idea of _hot_. Personally, he doesn't see what abs have to do with anything. "Like--" He tries to pick out an example. His mind is full of them. "When you yell at Himchan hyung!" he says triumphantly.

Youngjae's eyes widen, and then they're both laughing again. 

" _What_?"

"No, like--like how whenever you get annoyed you're still _nice_ ," Junhong tries. He's not saying this right. All he knows is, when any of the others are annoyed, there's a sharpness to the air; tension until things are resolved. Youngjae never seems to lose his sense of humor. He can yell and laugh at the same time. It's so _cool_. 

He tries again. "And your singing's always hot. And when you drive--"

(Bonus points for when Youngjae sings in the car, windows open to let his hair whip around. He drives with one hand on the wheel and never seems all that flustered, even in traffic.) 

"Okay," Youngjae says, but he's still shaking his head a little. He doesn't believe him. 

"It's hot how you never drink too much."

"Himchan hyung calls that being a killjoy."

"He does not. You're his favorite designated driver." 

Youngjae laughs again. "He does both at once, he's shameless."

Junhong laughs too--Youngjae's right--but he's also serious. It's _hot_ how Youngjae doesn't drink more than he wants to. He's completely immune to peer pressure, doesn't give a shit what the others are doing. And Himchan's wrong about the killjoy thing, because Youngjae's always fun. Junhong's still learning to turn down Jongup and Daehyun, who turn clingy (- _er_ in Dae's case) and wheedling when they drink. He's getting a bit better, but he's not on Youngjae's level yet.

"I mean it, hyung," he insists, poking him in the hollow under his collar bone. Youngjae's collar bones are hot too, but he already knows this so Junhong's pretty sure it can go without saying. 

The singer smiles at him. "That stuff's not _hot_ ," he says. Junhong frowns. 

"It is to me," he says honestly. And, because what the hell: "And you _are_ hot right now."

Youngjae looks pointedly down at himself. One of his pajama pant legs was dragged up to his knees when Junhong moved. Both his feet are bare and knobby. 

"Who _wouldn't_ be into this?" Youngjae asks, wiggling his toes. Junhong shrugs. 

"I am. It's like..." Junhong's pretty sure the word he's looking for is _intimate_ , but he doesn't want Youngjae to laugh at him for that. It actually means something. "Like, 'cause you're just _you_ ," he says instead. "And I get to see you like this? And fans don't, it's...cool..." He trails off, feeling a bit stupid. 

Youngjae doesn't laugh, so that's something. 

He pushes himself up on his elbows and kisses Junhong, so that's something even better. 

He tastes like mouthwash and Junhong can smell his conditioner. He reaches out to grip his hair with one hand and Youngjae makes a small satisfied sound ( _hot_ ). Then he's pushing himself up without losing contact, shifting his weight onto Junhong ( _also hot)._ Then his hands are going for Junhong's belt ( ** _ALSO--_** )

*

They're lying on the floor, Youngjae's head resting on Junhong's bare shoulder. His hair's dry now, and a mess. It's definitely hot. 

Junhong snaps a few selcas, then the singer's rolling over to look at him. 

"Junhong-ah," he says solemnly, gazing soulfully into the dancer's eyes. Junhong feels a flutter of disquiet.

"Hyung..."

"You're very hot."

He's staring holes through Junhong's face and it's making him feel very warm. "Thank you?"

But Youngjae holds up a hand. "Let me finish!" he bellows, dramatic. Junhong rolls his eyes. The singer sits up and takes both his hands. "It's really hot when you sing," he says, serious even in his emphatic not-seriousness. "Like, _really_ hot. You should definitely sing more."

Junhong squirms. "O--"

Youngjae puts a hand over his lips. 

"I'm not done yet," he says. He swings his leg over Junhong's hips so he's sitting on him. (Ahem. Hot.) He glares down, but the kind of glare that shows his dimples. "You started this," he accuses. "So get comfortable. We're gonna be here a while."


	9. A Bangup thing

Yongguk's been hunting through the boxes littering the studio for almost ten minutes before he notices that the pile of stuffed animals and jackets on the couch behind him appears to be breathing.

He takes a ~~terrified leap~~  cautious step back. Notes the pair of feet sticking off the end of the sofa.

He approaches, picks up a stuffed lion. Tries not to laugh or coo or do anything embarrassing.

He tugs his phone out of his back pocket, his thumb automatically going to Himchan's name before he remembers and stops himself. Himchan's out of the country filming a variety show.

It's dumb; Yongguk's left the country without the others a dozen times and been fine. But he'd swear Korea feels lonely without Himchan in it. It still hits him sometimes how much he takes for granted having the others an easy phone call and drive away.

He shakes off the mood. Himchan doing the show is a good thing for him. It's good for all of them. It's just a few days, anyway.

He scrolls down to Youngjae's name instead. Snaps a picture to send with the text: _You lose something?_

Jongup stirs in his sleep at the sound of the camera shutter and Yongguk freezes, but the dancer doesn't wake. After half a beat, Youngjae's response comes through, predictably exasperated: _Yah, pinch him for me!! i've been texting him for hours_

Yongguk sends something mollifying back and pockets his phone, his smile growing as he watches Jongup sleep, curled up among the plushies and hoodies they've all abandoned here over the past few weeks-months-years-ohgod. He debates returning to his studio, then shifts a few things to perch near Jongup's feet on the end of the couch.

"Mm." Jongup's leg kicks out, just missing Yongguk's knee, and then he's blinking sleepily at him. He's still half-buried, his brown hair messy in a slightly less intentional way that usual.

"Sorry," Yongguk half-whispers. But Jongup shakes his head a little and smiles a little and rubs his sleep-bleary eyes a little and Yongguk's heart explodes a little.

"S'okay."

Yongguk's finger finds the slim gap between Jongup's jeans and the top of his sock, feels the soft hair dusting his ankle.

"Youngjae was looking for you."

"Mm _mm_." More of a complaining grumble this time as Jongup shifts, a Pikachu and a few Matokis toppling to the floor. He rests his feet on Yongguk's lap. "I _told_ him I was coming here. I've barely seen you all week."

Yongguk's cheeks warm pleasantly at the implication, and he can't help tickling Jongup's ankle a little, the spot just below the jut of his bone. Jongup lets out a sudden high-pitched giggle but doesn't pull his foot back.

"And you were looking for me in the couch?" Yongguk teases. Jongup scrunches his nose.

"I got...distracted," he says sheepishly. "I didn't wanna interrupt while you were in with the producer hyungs."

"They're gone for the night," Yongguk tells him. Jongup frowns.

"Time's'it?"

"After 8. I was just trying to find that--demo from Sleepy hyung--" He scowls distractedly around the room. It really is a mess in here. They've taken to just shoving all the extra _stuff_ against the walls in lieu of a true cleaning.

Jongup tickles behind Yongguk's knee with his toe.

"I'll--help you look." A yawn splits his face as he sits up, scrubbing a hand over his cheek. Yongguk can hear the rasp. Jongup and Daehyun always need to shave more often than the others. He's grown to like the feel of stubble against his cheek when he wakes up with one of them.

It's been a while since it was Jongup, or at least it's been a while since it was just the two of them. Yongguk's spent more nights at the apartment recently, but that's always a flurry of Himchan-Jongup-Youngjae. Yongguk has learned he can't necessarily expect to wake up next to the same person he fell asleep beside when he visits.

"Nah," he tells Jongup now. "It's not important. I think I just needed to stretch my legs." His smile turns apologetic. "I can't really go out tonight, I still have a lot to do."

Jongup looks unsurprised. He stands, stretching in that peculiar way unique to him, arching his back and puffing out his chest, arms reaching wide.

"I'll keep you company, then."

He trails behind Yongguk to his studio, and Yongguk returns reluctantly to work.

When Daehyun visits, he brings food, gradually cajoling Yongguk away from the computer to eat at least a few bites and talk through his current project. Junhong gets as caught up in it all as Yongguk, asking a hundred questions or just watching over his shoulder, making the hair on the back of his neck stand to attention. Youngjae can't sit still, pacing the studio and talking. Himchan only comes to drag him out, or if Yongguk has need of his ear, someone to tell him _you're not imagining things, this sucks_ or sometimes _this is perfect, Bbang. Take a break._

Jongup does none of the above, simply collapsing on Yongguk's couch behind him. He's silent, doesn't snore or even breathe loudly enough for Yongguk to hear, yet he knows he's there. He's exactly the kind of company Yongguk didn't realize he needed.

He finds a good flow, the work progressing smoothly now. He'd been frustrated earlier but whatever was blocking him has vanished, and he feels the press to keep going. It's a good urge, not like the not-so-old days when the work had _teeth_ , and all Yongguk could do to keep them from ripping into him was never, ever stop.

Tonight he works and works some more, until--he can almost feel the air change in the room, and he knows Jongup's awake before he even turns around.

The dancer has his phone in his hand and he's squinting at the screen. He doesn't look at Yongguk before he speaks.

"Himchannie says to make you go home already. I told him I was in the studio but I didn't even _mention_ you."

Yongguk grins and pushes back from the sound board, joining Jongup on the couch, leaning over to see the text.

"How does he do that," he says, not quite a question. Himchan's uncanny that way. "What time is it in Thailand, anyway?"

"Two hours earlier than here, so...1:30," Jongup says. Yongguk winces. The time got away from him.

"I can give you a ride home," he says, then pauses, picturing a sleepy Jongup sliding off the back of his bike. "Or get you a cab."

Jongup frowns. "You're staying?"

Yongguk shrugs a bit awkwardly. He knows this habit still worries the others. He'd given them plenty of reasons to worry. He's not sure how to say he's okay this time without it sounding like his old line. Lie.

"I have to be back so early anyway..." 

Jongup just nods. "I'll stay, too."

"You don't have to--"

"I know I don't _have_ to." The dancer's voice is mild. He smiles slightly, and Yongguk's cheeks warm.

His instinct is to refuse, to make Jongup go home and sleep in his own bed. He has to remind himself things are different now, that he can-- _should_ \--take the others' comfort and company when they offer it. 

So he merely locks the door and returns to Jongup, kicking his shoes off.

The dancer scoots back on the couch to make room and Yongguk lays down beside him. They used to have a habit of napping together back in their trainee days when brief naps were the only sleep they had time for at all. Even then, Jongup had made something in Yongguk's brain go quiet.

This is even better.

He slips under Yongguk's arm and slings a careful leg across his hips, his head coming to rest on Yongguk's chest. Yongguk's arm curls around him protectively--or, as he feels the other man's muscles, maybe just _admiringly_.

He's not tired. Oops, he'd forgotten to mention that. If he were alone, he might do some push-ups or crunches, try to wear his body out enough to sleep. Now he has...alternative ideas. He starts to push them away, then remembers he doesn't have to and hooks one of them by the sleeve, tugging it back. It's not like Jongup will _mind_.

The dancer seems to have the same idea anyway. They lift their heads at the same time, and after a little nose-space negotiation, their lips connect softly. It's a _patient_ kiss, which isn't to say it doesn't make Yongguk's knees go weak. Jongup's very, very good at this.

 _He kisses like he dances_ , Yongguk had thought that first time.

It's good and terrible that he can't be with Jongup without thinking about him dancing. It's the way his hips move, the way he goes so intense. Yongguk deepens the kiss without meaning to.

Jongup raises himself up on his elbow and then he's sliding over Yongguk's body.

Yongguk should probably stop, should probably say something sensible like _we_ _should both get some sleep,_ but when he opens his mouth Jongup's tongue is in it and that's obviously better for everyone.

They don't hurry. There's time. There's no window in the studio door, no way for any passing trainee to catch a glimpse as Jongup sits up and tugs his t-shirt over his head. Sorry, trainees.

Yongguk pulls him back down, feels the muscles of his back flex as he moves, sliding Yongguk's shirt up and smoothly over his head. Everything's always smooth with Jongup; that whole dancer thing or whatever. Yongguk's never quite as coordinated as when he's with him. 

They move more urgently against each other, hips connecting, then parting long enough for jeans and boxers to be shed. Then they're back together. Jongup's hips dance.

Yongguk's breathless and incredibly happy about his current life situation when Jongup pulls back just a bit.

"Are you okay, hyung?"

Yongguk frowns and lets his hips answer that silly question. But Jongup shakes his head.

"No, I mean--" He nods to Yongguk's laptop on his desk next to the sound equipment. "You haven't been spending too many nights here, have you?"

He's impressively coherent considering what they're doing. Yongguk has to focus _very hard_  before he can answer.

"You--want to talk about this right now?"

Jongup shrugs. "Seems like a good time. It's hard to hide stuff when your dick's out."

Yongguk sputters and Jongup gives him a toothy grin. God. Every time Yongguk thinks the dancer's done surprising him--

"Um." He shakes his head a little. "Yeah. No, yeah, I mean--this isn't a habit lately. I just had a lot to catch up on."

He doesn't bother mentioning that Jongup, squinting down at him worriedly from between his thighs, is one-fifth of his reasons for being a bit behind on work. He wouldn't want to sound like he's  _complaining._

"Okay," Jongup says after a beat, and kisses him again, apparently satisfied. Yongguk can't help laughing. He feels Jongup smile back as he mumbles against his lips, "That's good, hyung."

It's good. It works even better than push-ups. It  _is_ , emphatically, enormously, better than push-ups. After, Yongguk sleeps as deeply beside Jongup as he always has.

They wake to pounding on the studio door and it's a mad scramble for clothes. But when Yongguk finally peeks out into the hall, it's only Youngjae, tray of coffees in hand and outrageous smirk on his face. He's not even a little surprised to find his errant roommate when Yongguk pulls him inside. 

"Knew I'd find you here. You two are so  _dedicated_."

Jongup just makes grabby hands for the coffee. He and Youngjae curl up on the couch, as comfortable as if they're back in their apartment. Yongguk watches with a small smile as he boots up his laptop, queues up the day's work. 

They're still there when he gets started, their voices a quiet murmur behind him. Youngjae actually  _can_ be quiet, when he wants to. Yongguk gives a small start of surprise when hands come to rest lightly on his shoulder. Jongup tickles under his ear like he's a cat. He laughs, but it  _does_ feel nice. 

"Practice," Jongup sighs. "See you later, hyung."

Yongguk waves them out. He doesn't lose his smile all day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Tilde. <3


	10. A Daejae thing

There's a series of six brisk knocks, then Youngjae's using his key to let himself into the apartment before Daehyun can scramble to his feet to open the door.

"I didn't know you were coming over!" he greets him happily. He spent the weekend with some old family friends and hasn't seen any of his partners in days _. Days_ with an _s._ That's simply too many, and he feels his heart fill at the sight of the other singer.

Youngjae doesn't smile back but he accepts Daehyun's hug, returns it perfunctorily.

"You would have if you'd answered my messages," he says. His voice sounds funny--sounds like he's kidding, but doesn't match his face, which says he isn't. He passes a plastic bag to Daehyun, pushes past him to take off his shoes. "I brought food."

"Thanks." Daehyun hesitates, disquieted at Youngjae's odd behavior. You'd think he'd be used to it by now. "Sorry I didn't have time to do a V live today." He _is_ sorry. He knows the fans miss them almost as much as he misses them. It would have been nice to talk to them, especially after the early birthday present he'd received. A quick thank you on Instagram wasn't nearly good enough, but it would have to do for now. "I had to drive hyung to the airport."

"You could've said," Youngjae says, collapsing on the end of the couch and allowing Ganji to leap blissfully all over him. "You just ignored me."

Ig _nored_ \--Daehyun drops the bag of food onto the coffee table and sits next to him, pulling Ganji off gently, distracting him by tossing one of his toys across the room.

"I knew we'd just talk tonight," he objects. _Ignored_ strikes him as a strong word.

"You could have said _that_ ," Youngjae says, meeting his eyes squarely. "Except I forgot, you don't like talking to me in front of the fans anymore."

He reaches for the bag himself, pulls out some chips. Daehyun can't stop staring at him in bewilderment.

"What are you _talking_ about?" he demands. It's been a fun weekend but a busy one and he's tired and he has no idea why they aren't making out right now instead of--whatever's happening instead.

"I know it was kind of weird before, but we're actually _together_ now; you could, like, try getting over it," Youngjae says.

Daehyun's lost. Daehyun's totally, hopelessly lost, and did he mention he's _tired?_ Where the hell is any of this even coming from?

"I don't know what you're talking about," he says as calmly as he can. "Are you drunk? I'm sorry I didn't realize you were so bored today; why didn't you call one of the others? Isn't that supposed to be a benefit of having _five_ boyfriends, so there's always someone there when you need attent--"

"Oh, fuck off," Youngjae snaps, standing. He gathers up the bag of food and stomps toward the door, then stops and roots through the plastic until he finds a bag of chips, which he throws at Daehyun. "Nobody likes that flavor but you anyway--"

He's shoving his feet into his shoes without doing up the laces, he's going to trip and make an idiot of himself and Daehyun should really stop him but he doesn't understand what's _happening_ \--

Youngjae slams the door on his way out. Daehyun stares at it for a long moment, then down at Ganji, who's brought the toy back for him to throw again. It's obvious that's what he wants. He's a _dog_ who can't _speak_ but it's always obvious what he needs. What's Youngjae's excuse?

*

Daehyun can't sleep, of course. He tries very hard, which is to say he changes into his pajamas and turns off the lights and gets in bed and then stares at Youngjae's name in his phone for three hours. He composes and deletes approximately four hundred texts, the tone ranging from apologetic to accusatory, conciliatory to cold.

He shakes it up every so often, looking longingly at Yongguk's name, Himchan's, Jongup's, Junhong's. He wonders if _they're_ all mad at him for incomprehensible reasons, too. He wonders if anyone still likes him at all.

He gets up at four am and lets Ganji reassure him. Then he cleans the apartment from top to bottom.

*

He's at the apartment Youngjae shares with Himchan and Jongup bright and early, tray of everyone's favorite caffeine in tow. Last night he was tired and pissy; this morning he's exhausted and sorry. For what _ever_ the hell it was he did. He'll never delay responding to a tweet again, hand to god or whoever.

The night's strangeness leaves him shy and he rings the buzzer to be let in.

"Did you lose your key?" Jongup greets him sleepily when he opens the door. There's no hint of tension in him; Daehyun sends out a universe-wide thanks for Moon Jongup and hugs him longer than usual.

"Yah, he's turning purple," Himchan interrupts the moment, taking the coffees out of Daehyun's hand and depositing the tray on the coffee table before returning, americano in hand, to accept a hug of his own. "Hey, what's wrong with you?" he asks as Daehyun can't help but give him the same treatment he just gave Jongup. He's too relieved to answer for a minute. Himchan's so _normal_ with his usual early morning crankiness that will fade by the time he finishes his coffee.

Jongup watches, very blinky behind his glasses, and pets Daehyun's hair, then Himchan's for good measure, and then Daehyun's again.

"Is Youngjae here?" Daehyun asks when he finally releases Himchan.

"No," Himchan says, and his heart sinks. "He texted he was staying with Yongguk last night."

Daehyun's heart sinks further, splattering against the floor. Does Yongguk hate him now, too?

"Hyung, what's the matter?" Jongup asks.

Daehyun lets them tug him over to the sofa and they curl up together, Daehyun's back against Himchan's side, Jongup's feet in his lap. He tells them about the epic weird of the night before.

"I don't know what the hell he was _talking_ about, like I'm _sorry_ I couldn't answer him _immediately--_ "

He sees Jongup's eyes meet Himchan's over his head and he sits up, trying to catch the gaze before it reaches its destination.

"What, what is that look for?" he demands.

"Will you relax?" Himchan snaps, holding his americano high over his head as if it didn't have a lid to keep it from spilling.

"What did that look mean?" Daehyun repeats, glaring at Jongup. The dancer doesn't squirm under the attention, but he pulls his feet back and crosses his legs.

"Youngjae hyung wasn't really mad about the tweet."

Daehyun swivels so he can glare at him and Himchan without having to twist around too much. Himchan is quiet, but also noticeably...not-totally-fucking-confused by all this. So it's just Daehyun in the dark, apparently.

"What am I missing."

“You know you’re...different with Youngjae than you used to be,” Himchan says. He seems to be choosing his words carefully, which is yet another bit of strange in this topsy-turvy day.

“Different how?” Daehyun demands. He pokes Himchan’s side a few times. “Why are you being like this? Be normal, you’re freaking me out.”

Himchan sighs. “You avoid himnow,” he says bluntly. “Not always, but--you avoid him on camera sometimes. I _told_ you not to go looking too much into that fan stuff online--”

Oh. Daehyun maybe slightly kind of has a clue now. This is about the _shipping_ thing.

It’s not like they didn’t know this was a Thing before; most fans are cool about it but some of them are so sweetly and transparently _earnest_ , hiding their smiles behind their hands as their shining eyes dart from one member to another. At some point, one of them got the courage to ask about it. He and Youngjae had laughed it off-- _we’re just good friends, ha ha--_ but he did some research that night and that was when Daehyun realized a lot of fans--a _lot_ a lot--thought he and Youngjae were a couple.

Ridiculous.

He wouldn’t have worried about it; let the fans have their fun! Except by that point he’d maybe slightly kind of started developing a certain fixation on Youngjae’s mouth? Like, had it always been that pretty? And people started pointing out his collar bones and Daehyun found his eyes returning to them a lot? Oops.

This had been Before. Before he’d confessed to any of the members, before he’d kissed Youngjae on that mouth (and, later that night, along those collar bones), and certainly before he realized Youngjae would ever _let_ him.

So, okay, maybe the whole thing left him a little paranoid. Maybe it doesn’t feel as exposing to drape himself over Jongup at fanmeets now, to flirt and tease Himchan instead of Youngjae. It’s not supposed to matter--in private, they’re a hundred times closer than they used to be. If he maybe has to stop himself from being as snuggly with Youngjae in public as he is with the others, well, it’s all in service of keeping their _them_ ness a secret. Youngjae should understand that.

“I don’t a _void_ him,” he says. Himchan looks at him skeptically and drinks his americano.

“I am not _awk_ ward,” Daehyun informs Jongup, who pats his thigh supportively but somehow does not seem totally convinced.

“And if he felt bad about something he should have just _talked_ to me about it,” Daehyun adds loudly, as though the apartment might store this information to give to Youngjae later.

“You two’re bad at talking,” Himchan says. Daehyun gives an outraged yelp/gasp thing. He’s really regretting bringing his hyung coffee. How did he wind up with such a terrible boyfriend?

“We talk all the time.”

“You joke and argue and make out and play with Ganji,” Himchan corrects mildly. “You gaze at him all smitten across the room, and then you try not to get too close in public. You can’t blame him for not loving that.” He pauses and relents, “You’re right he should have talked to you, though. We’ve been trying to convince him--”

“Great, you all talk about this behind my back?” Daehyun lets his head flop back on the couch, avoiding looking at the traitorous boyfriends flanking him, blinking back tears determinedly. Oh, he _hates_ this; he _hates_ having anyone mad at him, but especially one of the members. Especially Youngjae.

“Everyone talks about everyone, Jagi-ya,” Himchan says patiently, and oh, that’s just un _fair_. That term in Himchan’s low voice has turned Daehyun to liquid each of the rare times he’s heard it. “We just want you to be okay.”

Jongup’s hand is still on his thigh and Himchan’s voice is in his ears and this _should_ be enough for Daehyun. Except Youngjae is still out there somewhere, hating him and thinking Daehyun’s-- _embarrassed_ of him or something crazy--

He hears the front door open behind him and his eyes snap open. Jongup squeezes his leg in either warning or reassurance--probably the latter but who knows, this is all very anxiety-inducing.

He hears Youngjae’s voice, a quiet “Oh,” as he stops in the doorway.

“Morning,” Himchan greets him. “Daehyunnie brought us all coffee but I’m drinking yours.”

Daehyun takes a peek. It’s true. Himchan’s very fast where caffeine is concerned.

Then he freezes at the sound of socked feet approaching behind him.

“Am I supposed to be impressed with your honesty?” Youngjae asks.

“You may be impressed with whatever aspect of me you choose,” Himchan says, ever magnanimous. He lifts his head and Daehyun closes his eyes but he can hear their quick kiss hello anyway. Youngjae’s hand ghosts over his shoulder on his way to Jongup, and there’s a rustling of their greeting that Daehyun’s too distracted to decipher. Youngjae touched him, at least--that has to be a good sign, right?

He cracks an eye open, expecting to see the ceiling, but is instead met with the unimpressed gaze of Youngjae, staring down at him.

“Hello,” he says. Daehyun jumps and sits up.

“Hey,” he says casually. He’s pretty sure Himchan shakes his head at his attempt, but he doesn’t look over. His hands are much more interesting--see how they twist and turn in each other! Fascinating.

There’s silence, and then Youngjae sighs.

“I’m gonna--”

“ _Talk_ ,” Himchan interrupts exasperatedly. “ _God,_ you two.” He heaves himself to his feet and motions for Jongup to do the same. Jongup generally follows his own instruction and so stays seated, but Daehyun can feel him tensing, ready to leave him alone in this mess. “Or do you need a referee?” Himchan adds, looking at Daehyun and then over his head at Youngjae, still behind him.

Youngjae’s quiet. He’s quiet, and Daehyun misses his voice.

“We don’t need a referee,” he blurts out. “Go...away.” He wrinkles his nose as he tries to think of a nicer way to put it. He chances a glance at Jongup, who smiles, gives his leg one last squeeze and stands, taking Himchan’s outstretched hand this time.

“You can’t have mine,” Daehyun hears him say quietly as he holds his coffee out of Himchan’s reach. Himchan makes joking grabby hands and two of them retreat to one of the bedrooms, so at-ease together it makes Daehyun’s stomach ache in longing. He waits until they shut the door to speak.

“Are you gonna sit?”

Youngjae’s quiet for so long Daehyun almost turns to see if he’d left the room. But then he’s there, sidling around the couch and settling on the far end.

He’s in one of Yongguk’s t-shirts and his thighs stick out palely from a pair of soft shorts. His hair is the fluffiest anything has ever been in the history of everything, and Daehyun wants to run his hands through the soft strands until they stand even more on end.

“Why do you look like that?” Youngjae asks first, frowning.

“Like what?”

Youngjae reaches out a single finger to trace the circles under Daehyun’s eyes. Daehyun forces himself to hold his gaze.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

Youngjae draws his hand back so he can chew on his thumbnail for a beat, before he catches himself and stops. “You could’ve just called.”

Daehyun huffs. “I didn’t know what was _wrong_ \--do you seriously think I’m embarrassed of you or something?”

It comes out tetchier than he’d meant, but he can’t help himself, the idea is so _ridiculous_ \--

Youngjae’s temper from the night before is gone, and now he only shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“I talk to you on camera. I _flirt_ with you on camera.”

“Not like you used to. Not like you do with the others.” Youngjae starts biting his nails again and with a small exasperated noise, Daehyun scoots forward to tug his hand away.

“Cut it out, you--self-cannibal.”

“Oh god, you _are_ sleep-deprived.”

Their banter is listless, but Daehyun’s holding Youngjae’s hand now and he isn’t pulling away, so that’s something.

“I didn’t mean to be different,” he says finally, rubbing imaginary antibiotic ointment into Youngjae’s torn cuticles. They weren’t such a mess the last time Daehyun saw him. He would have noticed. No matter the tension or activity or distraction, he always notices Youngjae. He noticed him before the noticing meant what it means now, when Youngjae was a constant source of reassurance that Daehyun was in the right place with the right people at the right time. He’s lucky; he knows plenty of people have to figure this stuff out for themselves. It must get lonely.

“Sorry I was--you know. I was in a weird mood yesterday.” Youngjae’s eyes meet his for a brief, almost shy beat. He’s giving Daehyun an out, but Daehyun can’t take it. Not if it means Youngjae being _shy_ around him. That’s horrible.

He tugs--okay, yanks--on Youngjae’s hand, pulling him closer until they’re an undignified tangle and Youngjae’s saying _Daehyunnn_ , all annoyed, which is better. He lets them get situated, recalls Himchan’s assessment-- _you two’re bad at talking_ \--and decides not to overthink things.

“I like you,” he says. “I mean--I _like_ you like you. I mean I _more_ than like you-like you.”

“Are we back in secondary school?” Youngjae looks amused, another step in the right direction. It would be easy to laugh it off now, settle back into each other, forget the whole thing--

“I liked you before you liked me,” Daehyun says, and Youngjae goes still. “I liked you before the fans starting asking about it, and by the time they did and we had to make it a joke I _really_ liked you, and I can’t joke about it now because it’s too important to me. So. I keep it more...private…” He trails off, reflecting that he really _is_ terrible at talking, which is kind of funny when you consider how much practice he’s had.

“Dae,” Youngjae says. He’s giving him a vaguely confused look. “You know I liked you too, right?”

Daehyun shakes his head. “I liked you first.”

“Are we back in primary school now?” Youngjae doesn’t give him a chance to answer, pulling him in and kissing him lightly, and then less-lightly. Daehyun’s so relieved he almost forgets to kiss him back. Almost.

He’s so relieved he starts babbling as soon as they part, apologizing again and explaining clumsily.

“Oh my god I’m sorry too and I like-you-like-you-like-you too, so just shut up and--” Youngjae kisses him again.

They’re still kissing when Himchan and Jongup come out of their room. They wave away their lunch invitation, even though Daehyun's stomach is rumbling. It's a small price to pay. Sometimes he’s just not in the mood to share.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started this aaaages ago, and today I was in the mood for some ansty Daejae fluff (flangst?) so here we are. I hope this makes sense. Thanks for reading. <3


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